Full disclosure, I am purposefully leaving out the restaurant that I own and operate, The Shop Breakfast & Lunch (located at 2933 Monte Vista Boulevard NE, in case you want to stop by), in order to write a fairer and more impartial guide, unbiased and true.

Everyone has their own list of go-to spots for New Mexican; some people have their one spot. No matter what you say, someone (or a group of someones) will say you’re wrong.

But hear me out: I grew up here, learned to cook here, and learned to appreciate what we have after years of complaining about it.

No list is complete without starting with Frontier Restaurant. Yes, I know, cliché, isn’t it? But I dare you to tell me I’m lying. You can’t. Seriously, when was the last time you sat down at the Frontier? You walked through those doors to that warm, dawn-colored glow, only to be greeted once again by the familiar smell of fresh tortillas cooking not more than fifteen feet away. That slight anxiety you feel when the light turns green and you’re still not 100 percent sure what you are going to order, but, like the very simple Spanish you learned in high school, it comes to you just when you need it most. It’s New Mexican to the bone. It’s old, it’s old school, it knows what it is and what it isn’t, and it doesn’t change (except for the lack of twenty-four-hour service since 2006, but as someone who’s seen the inside of Frontier’s dining room at 2 am, that might not be a bad thing). It’s comfortable, and everyone is welcome. Isn’t that what we want? Comforting food? Food that truly speaks to our soul? Frontier sets the bar. It IS the bar. It hits all the marks. Green chile cheeseburger? Check. Green chile stew? Check. Posole? Check. Breakfast burritos? Fuck yes. It’s what we love, the way we love it, for a fair price. It’s a staple for a reason and we ALL love it, whether you’ve forgotten that or not.

Next up—Mesa Provisions. Is Chef Steve a friend? Hell yeah. But is he one of the Southwest’s best chefs? Also hell yeah. At Mesa, Chef Steve Riley is giving us a glimpse of what New Mexican food can be, dare I say, what it ought to be. When most of us think of local cuisine, we imagine simple, warming, hearty, loving food, cooked low and slow, enough to feed everyone who happens to catch a whiff. What is happening at Mesa Provisions is a clear and necessary next step. To elevate our cuisine and show it off to the world. To sit at the big kids’ table, knowing damn well we deserve to be there.

Chef is cooking with all the love, soul, and warmth that you’d expect from your aunts or grandparents, cooking with flavors because “that’s how my mom did it,” then taking all his expertise and technique to create something new, yet familiar. Everything is intentional. And everything reminds you of home, from the colors on the plates to the landscape paintings hanging on the walls. Color palettes that can only exist in the Duke City. Flavors that can only be created here. Smells that are as comforting as rain on adobe. And yet every meal at Mesa leaves one surprised and asking, “Man, why didn’t I think of that?” (Well, that’s what I leave thinking.) The man is making duck-fat tortillas. Even if you didn’t know that when you ate them, you’d love them. If you could buy them by the dozen at Smith’s and make little quesadillas with them after school just how you used to, or maybe still do, they’d be the best quesadillas you’ve had in a while. The pork osso buco is something you’d order on name alone, but when that first bite hits, you realize it’s the most tender, delicious, fresh, and perfectly spiced bowl of posole you’ve ever had. The menu is seasonal, things change—I can’t tell you what to order in April. Just go, tell them I sent you; they’ll take care of you.

Now, some of you may be reading this and thinking “Hmm, all these spots are Nob Hill adjacent; doesn’t he venture outside his own neighborhood?” Sometimes, but honestly, where do you expect me to go? The Heights? 

Comfortably tucked into one of our many glorious strip malls, Eloy’s New Mexican Restaurant is a friendly smile at the end of a shitty day. What sets Eloy’s apart is one simple thing: a personal connection. I know you get it. You have a place like this too. The spot you and your family have been going to since you were a kid. For me, it’s my partner’s family’s place. We walk into an always-warm dining room with wooden beams across the entrances, almost like an old church, with what look like antique wooden chairs and tables to match, with everything you’d expect on them—salt, pepper, coffee creamers, and, of course, honey in a squeeze bottle. Pretty much without fail, we’re greeted with an enthusiastic smile and a question: “Hi, mija! How’s your Grandpa Ray doing? I know things have been hard since Lucy passed. I threw in an extra quart of salsa for you guys. You still like it extra spicy, right?”

That’s it. That’s what makes this place special. Every time we walk in, the owner asks, “How’s business going? How are the doggies? And your sisters?” She’s not just asking to ask; she cares. THAT’s New Mexican. That’s what makes us who we are. Our shared experience of being here, and having been here, our connection to each other, our natural need to take care of our own and show our love in countless ways. And she just happens to show her love with all the usual suspects: enchiladas, carne adovada, stuffed sopapillas, beans, rice, chips, and, of course, salsa. It’s so welcoming, comforting, and wholesome that it almost makes me want to call my own grandma and apologize for not seeing her since 2009. Almost.

Frontier Restaurant, 2400 Central SE
Mesa Provisions, 3120 Central SE
Eloy’s New Mexican Restaurant, 1508 Wyoming NE